


Where there's a whisk, there's a way

by supercali



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, baking au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:22:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercali/pseuds/supercali
Summary: Aaron didn’t start baking until he was 21. One of the counsellors he saw suggested that as well as seeing her he find a hobby, something he enjoyed doing, something new.***Robert baked because he liked it, because he was good at it. He didn’t tend to do things unless he was good at them. He didn’t see the point.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this niggling idea for a while but right now I don't have a plan as such, so the updates will likely be a while apart. I'll get there though, just bear with me!

Aaron didn’t start baking until he was 21. One of the counsellors he saw suggested that as well as seeing her he find a hobby, something he enjoyed doing, something new.

It had taken him ages to come up with anything. He thought about art, but he’d never been any good, except perhaps with a spray can. In the end it had been pure chance that he’d walked in on Marlon in the middle of baking Leo’s birthday cake.

He’d not had the kind of Mum that did that, that had freshly made cakes or biscuits waiting when he came home from school. Mr Kipling slices out of a box maybe, if they were lucky, so it was pretty much alien to him. It caught his interest though, watching Marlon create the little cartoon figures to sit on top.

_“Did you want something?”  
_

_“Oh, um, Mum said I could borrow some carrots…” He was stuttering at being caught staring. “I’m making tea and we’ve…there aren’t any. I’ll replace ‘em.”  
_

_“Don’t be daft. Over there.” He grabbed them, but couldn’t help watching him again, wondering how it felt to create something from scratch like that. “Anything else?”  
_

_“No…cheers Marlon.”_   


_The next morning he drove himself into Hotten, to the library. He’d tried looking up recipes on his phone but they were just confusing. Some mentioned cups, some ounces and some grams and he didn’t have a clue._

_He felt a bit stupid asking for help but the assistant was much friendlier than the ones he remembered from school and before long he was sat at a table with a pile of books and a leaflet about a local baking group. He’d thought it was a step too far but he’d still folded it up safely in his pocket._

_Armed with one of the books, he’d stopped at Tesco’s on the way home and was soon laden down with ingredients. He knew his Mum was out so he had the kitchen to himself._

_It took him almost three times as long as the book said, but the mixture resembled the pictures as it went into the oven. He just had to wait._

That first attempt had been a disaster and he’d wanted to give up, maybe would have except he realised just how calm he’d been while he’d been weighing and mixing the ingredients together. Everything else had melted away even if it had been just an hour.

The next day he’d tried again, and this time what he produced was passable. It was never going to win any kind of cake beauty contest, but it was edible. He remembered something the woman at the library had told him  _‘icing sugar covers a multitude of sins’._

The sense of achievement that he’d felt when his Mum came home later that afternoon and saw it, sitting on the table, was the best he’d felt in a long time. He didn’t even care that he saw he picking at the slightly burnt edges because the rest tasted good and for a while she’d stopped looking at him with that sadness in her eyes.

Since that day he’d got better and better, even he could see that. His cakes didn’t have that scorched after taste anymore, and it was usually a battle to keep Noah and his Mum away from the tin long enough for it to last the day.

It was a hell of a confidence boost as was his Mum secretly adding one of his chocolate cakes to the village fete competition. He’d been mortified when his name was called out. She’d dragged him along, claiming she wanted company. Secretly though he was elated, and later that night he couldn’t help looking at the paper rosette that Harriet had handed him, thankfully not commenting that the colour of it matched his bright red face. 

_*****_

Robert baked because he liked it, because he was good at it. He didn’t tend to do things unless he was good at them. He didn’t see the point.

One of his earliest memories is of sitting at the big wooden table at the farm watching his Gran hand out big slices of cake that she’d made. Whenever she was looking after him they would bake something together. He would be in charge of weighing out the ingredients, using the old fashioned weighing scales with weights at one end and a big dish at the other.

He loved it, it made him feel so important. Even when they weren’t making anything she’d let him play with it, pretending he was a shopkeeper and all sorts.

That same Christmas she’d bought him a little apron, red and white striped and it hung up in pride of place next to hers in the kitchen.

The baking stopped for a while when they moved to the new farm. He knew she didn’t like the new house, can remember her and his Dad arguing about it. It was his Mum who took over on Saturday mornings, tying his apron around his waist. He missed his Gran, but his Mum would let him have a go at mixing which Gran never did because she told him he might be too rough.

_“As long as you’re careful, Robert.”_   


He could almost hear her every time he stood in his kitchen. She was more adventurous than his Gran too, not just Victoria Sandwiches and bread in her kitchen. Everything from biscuits, to puddings and pies were tried. Whenever anything failed she’d just laugh and say it didn’t matter.

_“Everyone has to make mistakes. It’s how they learn. No one is perfect.”_   


He tried remembering that now as he stared at the remains of what should be a three tiered chocolate cake. He’d got caught up on the phone and hadn’t got back to the oven in time. It just made him frustrated because he could make these in his sleep. This one, this one was special, his sister’s wedding cake.

He sighs as he tips it into the bin, running some water to wash up and start again. Usually it calmed him down, baking, he could happily stand in his kitchen all day creating. Today nothing was going right. He knew why. The day before Vic’s wedding, the day before he had to face his brother again, the first time in years.

Andy had always scoffed at him and his love of baking, same as his Dad, neither of them seeing the point. They were always happy to eat whatever he made though, he thought bitterly. They couldn’t understand why he preferred it to farm work, probably never did. He didn’t care any more, he was happy, he was good at it.

Later that night, perfect second attempt sitting safely in the kitchen awaiting decoration in the morning he put away the battered handwritten recipe book back in the bookshelf. It was his Gran’s, she’d given it to him when she moved to Spain. It held all her family recipes, and then his Mum had added her own. It was precious, so much so he didn’t add to it any more, his own recipes held in a new notebook, but he always came back to this. It had never seen him wrong yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long! Hopefully updates will be quicker now.
> 
> This chapter is all Robert, but Aaron's up next!

He should’ve known she’d want a favour when she approached him with that big smile and wide eyes. He didn’t expect it at her wedding though. He’d been thinking of going home, would’ve already if it weren’t his sister. Andy’s scowling at him in the corner with Katie and he doesn’t really know anyone else here.

“Rob.” Even if he hadn’t been suspicious, the long drawn out sound of his name would have clued him in.

“What?”

“Can you do me a massive favour?”

“I get the feeling you’re not asking me to dance with one of your single mates. Go on then, no promises mind.”

“It’s like this. There’s a charity baking competition a couple of villages over from the cafe, and they asked me to be one of the judges, but since me and Ben put the honeymoon back a few weeks I can’t do it. So I thought maybe…”

“No.” He motions to the barman for another drink hoping she might’ve disappeared by the time he turns round. No such luck.

“Robert, please. I’m letting them down after I promised. It’s only two weekends. What else will you be doing?”

“Because I have no life right? Why me anyway, what do I know about judging a competition?” He picked up his drink, taking a large sip, trying to keep his patience. 

“Does ‘The Messy Cupboard’ ring any bells? Don’t deny it, I’ve seen it.” She glances over her shoulder as she speaks.

“You might want to enlighten me because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He hoped his cheeks weren’t going red, maybe he could bluff it out.

“The videos. You might as well tell me.”

“Shouldn’t you be going back to your husband?” He could see Ben on the other side of the room laughing away with who he assumed were his friends.

“He’ll cope. Come on Rob, if you’re going to have your own youtube channel about baking you should really disguise your kitchen a bit.” He sighed. “I think it’s brilliant. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” His eyes pick out Andy, “You know what would happen if Andy found out, what he and Dad used to be like. It’s just a few stupid videos that I did when I was bored.”

“Do you even know how many people have watched them?” Of course he knew, he’d checked just that morning. He’d read all the comments, even answered a few of them, but he wasn’t telling her that. “Honestly Rob, I’ve heard people talking about it. You’ve got quite the following.”

“Don’t be daft! Why were you watching anyway?” He’d started them months ago when he was between jobs, when he was bored and had uploaded them for a laugh. Then the views and comments kept going up and he’d given the channel a name. He’d made sure that all anyone could see were his hands and what he was baking. He hadn’t even considered that his sister might find them let alone watch.

“I have to keep up with new ideas and that don’t I? Anyway, my point is, you’d be a proper celebrity judge. Please! All you have to do is taste things and say what you think. I remember you’re pretty good at that.” He laughs, because she’d always used him as her guinea pig when she started cooking. He’d come home to her invading his kitchen and then when he realised she was pretty talented he’d offered to help her out with her dream of running her own cafe.

“If I agree, will you leave me alone and get back to enjoying your wedding?”

“Yes! Rob, you’re the best! I’ll call them on Monday and give them your number.” She wraps him in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He’d hesitated, even as late as that morning, not wanting the rift with Andy to overshadow her day, but in the end he couldn’t let her down.

“Had to make sure that cake got here safely, didn’t I?”

When she’s gone he finds an empty table to sit at, wondering just what he’d let himself in for. Still, it might be fun.


End file.
